A Secret Revealed
by Archaic Scribe
Summary: Vignette of Haleth’s first encounter with the Drughu of Brethil. Told from Haleth's point-of-view. Done.


** A Secret Revealed**

_by Archaic Scribe

* * *

_

Skeletal branches of the bare ash tree, shivering, and coated with burnished white snow.

Maple leaves to the right of my path, dark red, almost a dull, dingy bronze or copper, unwilling to fall, resolute and defiant against the heavy, wet snow.

The rain is a forceful white, plummeting almost straight down, direct and commanding upon the earth.

Blades of grass still peek out form the white mass of this first snow cover, its points looking sharp and prickly, as if its ire has been raised to wrath at the coming of its cold blanket, to be endured for many months.

A well is hallowed in the land, the water left slowly freezing to a gray, crystallized slush.

Looking through this mass of forest seems like looking through pieces of glass, carelessly designed into something unexpectedly beautiful.

The pines are ahead. As I walk upon the path, creating the first tracks of the morning upon its pristine blanket, I long for the safe haven in front of me.

In the distant sky, all is milky gray, murky and unclear.

There is a presence here, one which is much like my own race of men, but unlike those which I know.

I chuckle inwardly as I feel the smile take over my face. I feel the amusement in my eyes as I stretch my memory to the past.

_It takes not seeress or priestess to sense this feeling of companionship, only the raw skills and wisdom of a practiced hunter or warrior_.

The gods may have withdrawn from me a gift bestowed in younger days, but they cannot remove the senses a human possesses for natural, instinctive protection or survival.

There is a grunt to my left and I remain calm and still, as if suddenly frozen. A small man steps out before me on the path.

He begins to speak, though the language is one I admit I do not understand, one I have not yet heard uttered upon the Midgard (Middle-earth).

I focus with careful concentration on his eyes, and I see truth. He is wary, but will not threaten immediate harm.

I watch his movements, the way he moves his arms when speaking, the way his feet remain firmly upon the earth.

We are kindred in some mysterious way, for I can see my actions mirrored in his own.

He has been watching me, following the shadows of my footfalls for many weeks. It is this very man that I have felt these long days, for I have known the company of elves watching, as if a phantom of the forest.

He is approaching me slowly, carefully, standing quietly before me, and gazing pointedly at the necklace that rests upon my cloak of fur and leather.

It is a bear, set upon symbols carved by Beinir's own hand, an ancient language that is foreign to me.

I suddenly think ruefully of the symbols, another mystery that will remain so in my perception. I choose a different path, willingly and knowingly, when I ignored the High Laws of the gods.

He wants to reach out, to touch it, but he is calculating my next move and what reaction it would bring upon him.

So, I alleviate his caution, and slowly remove it from my neck and offer it to him. There is a voice deep within me that bids me to give it to him, a strong voice that remains in the abyss of my soul, unless there is a matter of importance at hand.

I can almost hear it whisper on this abrupt, unseasonably warm breeze that suddenly blows wisps of hair from my plaited mane, _for this purpose, was this gift meant_.

I shiver at the clear, ringing voice echoing in my head and welcome the intrusion. This is a voice I have learned to rely upon and trust, one that is my own and not sent to me by any gods or goddesses.

The squat man stands before me with awe, a smile in his eyes and a strange gladness that seems to tug at his lips, which are strangely void of any hair with the exception of a thin, dangling strip which divides his chin in half.

Under layers of clothing, which is made of a strange material I have not ever glimpsed, I see that his bottom looks heavy. If I had not seen with my own eyes the dwarves near Mount Dolmed when training as a priestess under the guidance of Canute in my youth, I would swear him a hairless wonder of the Stunted People.

I tremble again, but for only a brief moment as my mind comes back from the unknown. His eyes are like the blackest coal, but though he looks fierce and formidable, I see kindness in those dark orbs that cry: _Kindred_!

His sudden, pure laughter fills the wood and its sound awakens in me a distinct memory of Caranthir, the Elf-lord of Thargelion.

I smile in response to this creature's musical laughter, and the secret memory of my friend that glints as a distant light in my eyes.

His black eyes suddenly probe mine for moments, which stretch the minutes of the day, as his expression changes to one of sadness.

He continues his expedition as a genuine smile lights upon his features, driving the gloom to harbor.

"Drughu," he utters in his clear, yet guttural voice.

"Drughu," I repeat as his black eyes glisten with understanding and intelligence.

He nods, holding up my nature spirit, as if to say it is not a prize he will long keep from me.

I am under the protection of his spirits of the wood - I can feel the change as if seeing a clear, bright sunrise on the height the horizon.

He will return to me after taking council with his people.

I know this as I know my own name, for I am Haleth, daughter of Haldad, and Lady Chieftain of the Haladin.

The Haladin are my Folk and I am their humble servant, sworn by blood-oath to protect and lead them.

This Forest of Brethil has shown me her mystery and we can acknowledge her as one that we will protect. Great Brethil is counted now among our Folk, and as her guest, we will count her people among us, her Drughu.

We will offer friendship to them for the rest of our days.

As friends, if they have want for protection, the Folk of Haleth will see their needs met with immediate haste.

He disappears into the trees, the majestic guardians of a hidden world I have not known.

* * *

Disclaimer:

Characters and situations of The Silmarillion (Second Edition) by J.R.R. Tolkien, edited by Christopher Tolkien are the property of The J.R.R. Tolkien Copyright Trust and Christopher Reuel Tolkien.

Produced solely for the enjoyment of other fans and not for any monetary profit. Please do not sue me, for I have little money.


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